


Arrivals

by Blink23



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Fluff, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-17 06:35:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17555225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink23/pseuds/Blink23
Summary: Merriell blinks at him like he never thought of the possibility. “What the hell we gon’ do with a girl?”(Or: Baby names are discussed, Gene thinks about the past, And Merriell is the worst and best soon to be papa ever)





	Arrivals

**Author's Note:**

> This is why I shouldn't be left to troll Tumblr for ideas.

When Sledge comes home from class, Merriell is on the sofa, the radio on and his arm thrown over his eyes. It’s not really a rare sight, outside of the stomach he’s sporting. 

“How was your day, Mer?” he asks, dropping his books into their armchair and kissing his cheek.

“I don't know why we did this,” Snafu moans dramatically, “I feel like I'm gonna die.”

“Oh stop it,” Gene rolls his eyes, “It's not that hard. You're pregnant, people have been doing it since the dawn of time.”

“Men ain’t.”

“Yeah they have, it just isn’t common.” 

“But my poor back...”

Eugene snorts and goes back towards the kitchen, “If it ain’t jaundice it’s the back.”

“Fuck you, Sledge.”

“That’s what got you into this,” Eugene calls, checking the refrigerator. He was used to this, six months on. First it was throwing up at all hours, cursing the day he let Eugene get anywhere near him, and after that, wanting food so spicy Eugene broke into a sweat just thinking about it, and then nothing but bland rice and canned peaches, the same shit they ate on Pavuvu, which made Eugene hate him a little bit. Then it was nesting, which consisted of Merriell complaining about shit their apartment did or didn’t have for the baby, and threatening to throw away Eugene’s things (but never his own) if he didn’t clean the way he liked. Now it was Merriell being so big he couldn’t get comfortable, and whining constantly about it.

“Hey, do you want me to bake this chicken, or are you gonna fry it like you said?”

Snafu’s quiet in the living room, only the noise of some sort of baseball game his response. Eugene peaks out from their tiny kitchen to find Merriell looking at his stomach like it’s a mortar waiting to blow.

“Mer…?” He asks, something hot and panicky coiling in his stomach at the expression.

“He’s kickin’,” Snafu says, sounding almost confused, “I didn’t-- I mean, he’s never...”

Eugene sits at his hip, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“He’s bound to kick, Mer. My father told you that, remember? Just takes a while longer for men rather than women.”

“Last one didn’t,” he says, sounding irritated, but there’s a protective arm around his middle, cradling his stomach.

“Last one was only around for what? Two months?” Eugene says gently, “This one’s healthy.”

“Yeah ‘cause we ain’t waitin’ to die,” Merriell grumbles, settling back into the couch even more. It was a sore spot for Merriell; figuring out he was carrying their baby days before Okinawa but not telling their corpsman, and then the mess that was those months on the line. After they were moved to the rear there was no baby anymore, probably thanks to malnutrition. Eugene didn’t know until they were home, Snafu screaming his throat raw at a nightmare of bombed out huts and a tiny redhead newborn dead from friendly fire. Another trauma to add to the mess that was their war.

It made Eugene feel a little guilty being happy that their first child was happening now. He doesn’t know how he would’ve functioned with a baby like that, or even if Merriell would’ve let him know instead of just disappearing without a word about it. Up until a few months ago he would still occasionally come to in the midst of a nightmare with Snafu pinned to the bed and his fist raised like he was going to break his nose for trying to wake him up. He could only imagine what response a three year old tiptoeing around in the dark attempting to climb into their bed when scared would get. 

All of this wasn’t even taking into the biggest change, which would’ve been having it in Alabama. While most of Mobile was scandalized that the Sledge’s youngest boy had managed to get himself into trouble with another man, New Orleans seemed to embrace the both of them without a problem. Even their landlady was excited by the prospect, offering up the two bedroom place on the second floor versus their studio on the fourth when she found out, all for the same rent.

“Come ‘ere, you sap,” Merriell grumbles, pulling him close so they’re both sprawled on the sofa. He reaches of Eugene’s hand, resting it low on his stomach and pressing down, close to his hip. Soon he can feel the gentle thump against his palm, and his breath all but leaves his lungs.

“It’s… that’s a baby.”

“It is, cher,” Merriell hums, kissing his hair. Eugene curls in closer, his head on Merriell’s shoulder and hand held firm to his stomach.

“We’re going to be parents.”

Snafu snorts, “Ain’t that a fuckin’ odd concept.”

“You been readin’ my text books, with that vocabulary?”

Merriell rolls his eyes, but otherwise says nothing, carding his fingers through Eugene’s hair.

“We still haven’t picked out a name.”

Merriell Just blinks at him, trying to remain emotionless and failing. There’s a challenge there, but also fear. Eugene understood; picking out a name made it real. Made this thing inside him a baby.

“I dunno know about girls names-“

“Why?”

Eugene rolled his eyes, “In case it’s a girl?”

Merriell blinks at him like he never thought of the possibility. “What the hell we gon’ do with a girl?”

“I dunno, be glad my mother can't be anywhere near her?” Eugene shrugs, “dress her like a boy and teach her how to be the least ladylike little girl we know so she won’t be turned into a living doll? It’s possible, Snaf, we have to think about it.”

Merriell goes quiet, chewing his lip.

“Mawmaw’s name was Ruby,” He says finally, almost sounding shy. Eugene doesn’t say anything, but kisses his jaw.

“I like Henry.”

Merriell hums, “Henry works.”

It’s settled. They lie like that, their hands pressed to Merriell’s belly, until they’re both lulled into a nap by the running commentary on Al Zarilla’s batting average.

 

(A few months later, when Henry Francis and Ruby Grace are welcomed into this world, screaming their little redheads off, Merriell seems to know exactly what to do with a girl and Eugene isn't even smug about it.)


End file.
